Changes
by Jess J
Summary: Adam Lockwood is left stressed out and overworked after Michael Corvin's disappearance, but something happens to set about a course of events he doesn't believe possible.
1. Theories and Rationality

Author's note: Well, my muse got an idea for an Adam-centric fic. So here's the beginning of it. Hopefully I'll be able to update it regularly, and it won't be too long, but my muse wouldn't let me ignore it. So, here it is, and reviews are wonderful things. Usually.

Disclaimer: I don't own. So, don't sue me, ok? Please? I'm poor, I'm making no profit, I just have an overactive muse. Savvy?

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PROLOGUE: THEORIES AND RATIONALITY

Life hadn't been easy for Adam Lockwood. He'd had a difficult time convincing his parents to let him go to med school. He'd had an even more difficult time convincing them not to disown him when he had decided to move to Budapest, Hungary.

Truth be told, sometimes he wasn't sure it was the wisest decision. Sure, Budapest needed more doctors, especially in the ER, but it seemed to get him entangled in things he would never understand. Especially since the incident with Michael Corvin. One of the few other Americans that worked with Adam, Michael had been a loner, but he and Adam had a fairly friendly relationship. They were buds, but they knew they could count on each other in surgery and to back each other up.

And to help each other out when things got tough. Although Adam probably hadn't made the best decisions when Michael had come to him for help. But it'd been hard. Michael was a loner and kind of broody, but he had never seemed the kind to snap. Yet when he'd come around Adam that last time, dirty, wet, a large bite wound on the nape of his neck, he'd seemed to be delusional.

Aggressive as well.

It had freaked Adam out, really. He had no clue what was going on, only that Michael was wanted by the police - the two officers he'd met and never seen again after Michael's disappearance had looked more like huge thugs than police officers - was somehow connected to a subway shootout, was bitten, had been roughed up, and was talking about a man doing the biting and a woman clad in black leather being his savior.

He hadn't come off sane. And then his grip on Adam's wrist had been too strong. Too firm. He had seemed pissed, a calm pissed that warned of something starting to break, ready snap if he wasn't placated swiftly and adequately.

Sometimes Adam wondered how the grip hadn't broken his wrist. It'd hurt. It had actually hurt. He remembered the feel of Michael's fingers wrapped around his appendage as if he was trying to crush the bones. If Adam hadn't been able to keep his cool and calm Michael down, he wondered if Michael would have actually done that.

Adam shook his head, focusing back on his paperwork. Ever since Michael's disappearance, things had gotten weirder. He'd had double the stress, having to take most of Michael's responsibilities himself. Nicholas had been cranky - the old man was a great doctor and a good boss, but when something went wrong, he could get a really grumpy attitude - and Adam had been forced to do double shifts half the time.

Life wasn't easy for Adam Lockwood right now. But in twenty minutes he would be able to go home and get some sleep. It'd take about a half hour to get home, just a short walk to the subway station, a twenty minute ride, and then a five minute walk and five minute elevator ride. And then he would be at his hallway, reaching his room, opening and locking it quickly before collapsing on the sofa. The bed would be too far away.

He probably wouldn't even change. Taking his shoes off would be enough trouble as it was.

But that was in twenty minutes. Right now he had some papers to fill out properly and a cold coffee to finish. He just hoped the caffeine was still good and would keep him awake until he got home. Didn't matter if it was hot or cold - besides, the coffee there tasted more like muck.

Adam groaned as he rubbed his neck with his left hand, trying to relieve some of the stiffness as he finished filling out the papers, setting his pen down only to get a few, brief sips of his cold muck. There were sounds all around him, but it was much calmer now than usual.

_Probably because there's no moon tonight_, he thought idly, and dryly, an empty smirk forming briefly before his expression became neutral once again. He had noticed that things got more hectic - and weirder - during three specific nights of the month. Nights of the full moon. If he was superstitious man, he would be creeped out, but he wasn't. He just found it rather ridiculous. The gangs or mafia or whatever probably organized it that way.

After all, this was Budapest, Hungary. Naturally things would be worse there, during full moons, because everyone believed it was infested with werewolves and vampires and demons and ghosts and witches. Well, it might have a few witches. But they actually existed. The others, though, did not.

With a sigh, Adam shoved those thoughts away and finished up his paperwork before setting the pen aside, drinking the last of his muck with a grimace, and rising to go to his locker and gather his things. He could finally go home and get a break. He idly wondered if Michael was ok.

Michael disappeared during a full moon. Was bitten too. Maybe he wasn't so delusion. Maybe there was a lunatic with lycanthropy - the actual, medical lycanthropy - out that night. It has happened before, and Michael was bitten.

Of course, that left the woman only Michael had seen and the subway shootout and being wanted by the police. Somehow, he couldn't believe that a lunatic believing he was a werewolf could bring all of those into the picture. It was just a little too far fetched. He'd stick to the Michael just snapping under pressure after a rabid dog attack and it colliding with a full moon theory that the police had given him.

After all, it was a medical impossibility for werewolves to exist. This was the twenty-first century. It didn't matter if he was in Budapest or Transylvania or New York City or Los Angeles. Werewolves and superstition were just for the movies and film industry to play with. Nothing more.


	2. Illegal Game Hunting? Not Quite

Author's note: Ok, this may not be completely realistic, but I tried to make it plausible as possible with my limited resources and many werewolf flick viewings. Hopefully it seems plausible and IC, and hopefully I'll be able to keep the chapters coming at a fairly quick pace, but updates probably won't come this fast. Anyway - thank you so much for the reviews so far, and please keep reviewing. Reviews make me happy.

Disclaimer: I do not own. Please do not sue.

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CHAPTER ONE: ILLEGAL GAME HUNTING? NOT QUITE…

It took Adam a little over five minutes to reach the subway station, the night a clear night for once. There had been so much rain lately, he was surprised Budapest didn't have a monsoon season. The break from rain was a welcome one, and made walking much more enjoyable.

Although being so tired, Adam didn't like walking at all, and he was convinced it didn't matter what the weather was like, he would still be unhappy at having to do any. He wanted to just be able to snap his fingers and magically be back home in an instant, able to collapse onto bed and remove his clothing with another snap of his fingers.

Maybe he would look into that witchcraft stuff. If he could attain the ability to do that, then he'd willingly "sell his soul" to become a warlock. Not a witch. He refused to be called a witch. Sure, warlock didn't sound all that inviting, but at least it sounded male.

The subway station was semi-crowded, despite the hour. He recognized a few others around - some even fellow coworkers from the hospital - but nobody there was anyone he was on friendly terms with. It was mainly just a polite smile and brief nod of acknowledgement, admitting that there was recognition but nothing more.

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I wonder if Michael's still alive. If he's sunk even deeper in that hole he somehow dug himself into.

Adam knew that if he ever found out, he was to report to the police. He'd been given pretty much an order to do so. Sometimes he worried they had tapped his phones and watched his apartment or something. Hopefully it was just paranoia. Besides, he doubted Michael would contact him.

Michael was a smart guy from what Adam knew of him. A good doctor, he had brains in most matters he and Adam discussed. Sure, he had gotten himself in deep, but even smart people could make mistakes. Perhaps he was doing it for money. The pay at the hospital wasn't the best right now, and Michael wasn't the only one to fall on rough times when it came to financials. Adam had nearly lost his apartment half a year ago.

No, Michael was smart enough to keep himself alive and safe even if he had gotten himself into that mess. Whatever the hell it actually was.

His ride finally arriving, Adam pushed his musings to the back of his mind and filed onto the car along with others, quickly moving to a seat and plopping down with a groan, his eyes closing as a look of relief spread across his face. He hadn't wanted to move that fast, but it was well worth it. He'd never been so thankful for nabbing a seat on the subway before in his life.

Ok, he was that thankful every time he worked that late, but that was beside the point. What was the point, was that it felt really, really good to sit down and rest.

It stank on the subway, but he was used to the smell. At least there weren't a whole bunch of bums with empty bottles of whatever liquor they could get their hands on. He'd had enough of that at other subways, but it wasn't so bad here. It just smelled of sweat, a bit of liquor, various foods, and different perfumes. All so strong that you didn't have to have the nose of a dog to pick it all up. And everything mixed together made for something unpleasant.

Adam was used to it though. He rubbed his nose briefly when he breathed in too fast and caused his nose to feel slightly tickly, then closed his eyes, leaning his head back as he waited for his destination to be reached. He fought not to dose off - dosing off on a subway was never a good idea, no matter when or where - and thought about work to keep him awake.

It was thinking of the soft, warm sofa and the even softer, comfier, warm bed that was dangerous. Made him want to drift off even more. He started to imagine he was already in med, under the covers, nice and warm and comfortable with no work to worry about for the next twelve hours, and then he was nearly falling out of his seat as the train came to stop.

_Shit! _He'd dozed off. Shaking his head and blinking repeatedly, Adam checked his pockets to make sure nothing had been stolen. Letting out an audible sigh of relief when nothing seemed out of place or amiss, Adam rose and shuffled off with most of the others, quickly walking to the escalator - there was no way he was taking the stairs right now - and waiting for his step to reach the top.

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Home. Not much farther. Just a little bit more walking. You'll be there soon, he kept telling himself as he walked down the street, thankful he wasn't getting drenched but not at all happy he had to walk more to get home. He repeated his mantra as he neared his apartment complex, the lighting dim, the sky clear, and almost nobody in sight.

The hairs stood up on the back of Adam's neck for some reason. There had been plenty of times he had walked home when it was deserted. There had been times he'd done it in the raining so hard you could barely see five feet ahead. There was no reason to get edgy. It wasn't even a full moon. There was no moon.

But it felt like something was off. He could sense something. It was like feeling eyes on his back, hearing footsteps that stopped when he stopped, hearing someone's breathing even when there was nobody there when you turned around. Something was wrong.

It was too quiet.

It was too light with too many shadows that were darker than the night sky above him.

It was too tense.

It was too calm for a night in Budapest.

Suddenly he heard something, the bushes near him rustling. To make the complex he lived in look a little better - it looked like it had been around for over two hundred years, and hadn't had a new paint job since the first one - the manager had planted bushes all around. It merely gave the building some greenery. And now they were rustling, moving, and then out came a squirrel, then another, and they ran away from Adam and back into another bush.

Adam let out a loud, long breath. He hadn't realized he'd been holding it. Or that he'd gone completely still and silent, tense and ready to snap like a twig.

A loud growl reached his ears and something large and heavy was abruptly on top of him, growling and pinning him down. He only felt one set of paws, and they almost felt like hands, and then he couldn't take in any more details as teeth settled quickly into his arm, biting, starting to yank, and for a moment Adam feared his arm was about to be ripped off by some rabid creature.

The sound of gunfire stopped the yanking, and there was a howl of pain from the creature above him before it ran. The sound of its running was heard even as more footsteps came, a human voice - male, stern, American - told whoever his companions were to ignore the body on the ground.

They thought he was dead. Adam kept perfectly still, holding his breath. He wasn't sure these people were good guys or what, but he didn't want to hear gunfire again and feel another pain before blacking out to never wake up again.

He listened as the male told however many others were there to worry about the body after the target was taken care of. An animal was a target? Adam wondered if he had somehow gotten entangled in an illegal hunt gone wrong.

The footsteps picked up again after the male finishing speaking, the sounds growing distant, and soon Adam was fairly certain he was alone, thought of as nothing but a corpse. It was a good thing they were gone, because he couldn't hold back his grunt of pain. As he moved, it became a whimper, his back sore from being tackled.

The animal had been heavy, strong, and had nearly crushed his back. Or at least it had felt like it. It had been silent, too. How could an animal that big and heavy be silent? It had to be big. He'd felt its weight and its paws. Its paw were huge. Hand like almost. And yet it had been perfectly silent until it had lunged at him.

_I'm beginning to really miss New York_, Adam muttered silently as he told himself he was too tired to figure this out, and that his arm needed immediate care. He had adequate supplies in his apartment, but he needed to get to them soon. Who knew what that animal might have given him. When it was morning and he'd been properly tended to and had some decent sleep, he would report the incident to the police.

Right now though, he just wanted to get to his apartment before those people - or that animal - came beck and realized he wasn't a corpse. He was afraid that what the animal started it or the people would finish the job should they see him.

Weakly, Adam righted himself, shakily walking the rest of the distance between him and the apartment complex. The security guard at the front desk noticed his condition and rose, speaking in an almost panicked tone, his Hungarian and English mingling so he was completely unintelligible, at least for Adam.

"I'm fine," Adam assured the man, then pointed outside. "But there's a wild animal loose. You should call the police and the pound," he added, deciding it was a good idea to go ahead and get word out. It wouldn't be good if the animal attacked someone else - especially if they weren't as lucky as Adam.

The security guard eyed Adam worriedly, but nodded. "Stay here, Sir," he said with a thick accent that was as difficult to understand as his mixed languages, but Adam was able to decipher it after concentrating on the words for a few moments. The security guard walked behind the desk again and picked up the phone, calling the incident in.

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Great. I'll be getting visits from the police. Again. Only this time it's at my place, and I'm the one mixed up in something. I think I know how Michael felt.

Deciding that he needed some rest and his wound needed medical attention soon or he could be in trouble, Adam ignored the security guard's order and walked to the elevator. He was thankful the guard was too busy explaining what had happened to notice the creak of the doors sliding open, then sliding closed again.

The bite wound flared with pain, and Adam swore he could feel infection begin to develop. He knew it was his imagination running wild and paranoid, but still, he didn't like it taking him so long to get the wound seen about. It was still bleeding somewhat, but he knew blood loss wasn't too big of a problem. It was starting to stop, and he would just feel a bit weaker than normal for about an hour or so most likely.

Infection and disease was his biggest worry. He'd had his shots, but he was always afraid shots weren't good enough. He had a more advanced first aid kit in his apartment though, so he would probably survive until a doctor's appointment at the hospital.

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Wow. This time I'll be on the other end of the stethoscope for once.

The elevator finally reached his floor, and with a creak the doors slid open. Adam stepped out, reaching into his left pocket for his keys. He panicked when he didn't feel them, then mentally smacked himself. With a grimace, he reached into his right pocket, his wounded arm protesting. He pulled out his keys as he reached the door and unlocked it, hearing the creak of the elevator doors closing again as he entered his apartment.

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Home sweet home. Finally.

Adam flipped the switch, the light coming on and nearly blinding him - why did it have to be so dim in the hallway and the elevator? - and he made his way towards the bathroom. He groaned when he removed the shirt, her whole right arm and shoulder flaring up with searing agony.

"Ow, ow, ow," Adam muttered as he finally got it completely off and could put his arm back down. He instinctively reached up to grip the wound, but refrained from touching it just in time. He needed to clean it, not give it even more germs.

The young doctor walked into the bathroom and eagerly sat down on the toilet seat, the cover down for once, thankfully. He pulled his medical kit out from the cabinet under the sink and quickly went to work. He cleaned the wound - with much hissing and wincing and cursing involved - before disinfecting it - that brought even more cursing and some grunting. Finally it was all taken care of and he quickly saw about to binding the wound.

As he finished up, he heard his phone ring and groan escaped him. _Can't I just have one, peaceful, stress free night? _he asked himself and God - if God even existed, which Adam sometimes doubted - as he rose. Extremely reluctantly.

Wearily emerging from the bathroom, he walked over to his nightstand, picking up the phone and bringing it to his ear, blinking as he spoke. Fatigue was coming on strong now.

"Hello?" he whispered, his whole body aching and his head beginning to pound from the fall and pressure on him from the animal, his initial tiredness, and having to keep awake to take care of his arm. He suddenly realized he probably needed a shower, but he was not in the mood to stand. Even though hot water sounded so tempting.

"Mister Lockwood?" came the familiar voice of the security guard, a bit calmer now, but just as thickly accented. It made Adam's head spin even more to try and focus on the voice so he could understand it.

"Actually, it's Doctor Lockwood," Adam correctly absently, his eyes blinking once more and then staying closed, "but yes, I'm Lockwood." _A tired Lockwood, so make this quick and simple and speak slowly so I can understand you._

"Sir, the police will be here within an hour to ask you about your attack, is there anything you need in the meanwhile?" the security guard asked, and Adam was amazed he understood it all. Of course, it took him five minutes to understand it all, but still, better than having to ask the man to repeat his words all over again and talk slower.

While Adam was not particularly thrilled he would be receiving guests soon, he decided it was for the best. He might could get a half hour nap, anyway. "Thank you, but I'm good. Just send the police up when they get here," he instructed, and didn't wait for the guard to confirm that or ask him anymore questions before he hung up and collapsed backwards.

The moment Adam hit the mattress, he was out, visions of forests and strange howling noises filling his dreams.


	3. Dreams and a Pair of Policemen

Author's note: Wow, I got more reviews than I expected to get, considering this focuses on a secondary character. But I'm not complaining, the feedback has been very, very welcome and helpful! I'm so sorry it took me so long to update, but chapters for this story will be sporadic. I am intent on finishing this story, however I will warn the readers that it might take me some time to do so. I also want to say I'm sorry if this chapter comes off as inaccurate of how this type of situation would be handled, but I'm myself don't really know how this would be handled, especially in a country I've never even been to. I'm trying to keep it accurate and plausible, but many apologies for inaccuracies, etc. Feedback is the most wonderful thing in the world and constructive criticism is welcome. Flames are pointless, please don't leave any. Okay, enough rambling - on with the story!

Disclaimer: I don't own Underworld or the characters from it. They are the property of Sony, Kevin Grevioux, Danny McBride, and Len Wiseman. Henri and Damak are my own characters, but that's about it so far. Please don't sue me, okay? I don't mean any harm or claim, I just have a huge soft spot for a certain nerdy doctor.

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CHAPTER TWO: DREAMS AND A PAIR OF POLICEMEN

Everything was black and white. Kind of blurry, hazy shapes with outlines that blended into more shapes and dark backgrounds. There were strange noises all around, but one sound stood out among the rest, was sharp and clear and almost deafening.

The howling.

He could hear it, loud, overwhelming, a thunderous bellow from a beast. Yet it sounded as though it came from _inside his head_, the only element of his surroundings that he could decipher did not seem to be a surrounding at all, but something inside him, _part of him_. As if he had an animal inside of him.

There were claws against his skin, sharp and deadly, harsher than the teeth in his arm. They were grazing, scratching, scraping at his skin, _from the inside_. Like the animal was clawing to get out, clawing _to break free_. He could feel something push at his bones, trying to crush them, break free. It felt as though his body was shifting, changing, trying to accommodate this beast beneath his skin.

His vision lost the blur, soon becoming sharp, clear, still black and white as if he possessed the animal's sight and not his own. He saw unfamiliar faces, picked up new, strange scents along with familiar ones. He could name the scent he knew, _and the ones he didn't_. He knew the names to all those faces, could tell who was who amongst the crowd of strangers.

The animal howled again, and now he knew he had a wolf inside him. It was like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood had decided that instead of eating its victim, it would somehow dive in and eats its way out and possess the remains of the corpse, walk around like a wolf in a man's clothing.

But then that was perfect, wasn't it? After all, a man could be just as innocent as a lamb, ignorant as sheep, yet more often than not, they were like the wolves of the fairy tales - devious, decadent creatures who preyed on sheep themselves. They were the proverbial wolf, were they not? They were the dark stranger to beware, the cruel murderer and rapist and thief to avoid, to run from.

Young girls, always told to beware of wolves that really represented men - it was either that, or a wicked stepmother, but perhaps that was merely written be a vindictive stepdaughter.

What did that have to do with anything though? Was this some sort of philosophical dream, telling him to get in touch with his inner sheep and inner wolf at the same time? What did that have to do with this sordid bunch around him, complete strangers yet people he knew so much about?

And they were all forming a sort of circle, a shouting, drunken crowd just without the actual drunkenness. Somehow he knew they were not drunk, just trying to find a drink that had enough taste to register on the tongues. Somehow he knew that there would be no slurred words and shaky, wobbling spectators leaving after the show was over.

The show. He hadn't even realized there was a show. _Or had he?_ He had been watching it, staring at it all along and only now did he register it. Only now did his eyes, seeing nothing but black and white and shades of gray, finally let him take in the sight before him. Only now did he finally get a good, long look at the beast inside him, underneath his skin, _trying to take over_.

Large, black monsters, something between human and beast, something between man and wolf, Red Riding Hood's worst nightmare. The sort of thing you saw in movies and then promised yourself upon reaching home were not truly real.

His gaze shifted to a specific part of the monsters, of the beasts before him. He took in the sight of their teeth and suddenly his arm flared up, intense pain making him grit his teeth and groan through them. It was as if he was being bitten all over again, and it didn't let up, not as his eyes clenched shut and he gripped the hurting arm, the howling inside his head fierce and demanding as the scent of blood met his nostrils and he heard the two beasts growling and snarling at each other.

It was burning hot, and his body was shaking, convulsing, changing. The pain didn't let it, it got worse, spreading through his entire body as the monster inside him clawed and bit and snarled and growled and howled to be let out, to shed man's clothing and walk as wolf once more.

It didn't let up, no matter how hard he tried to fight it, and finally he gave in, letting out a scream of agony, but the noise swiftly turned into a triumphant howl as he opened his eyes…

And found himself in bed, covered in sweat, the bandage on his arm started to come off from the moisture on his skin, the wound barely covered not reopened but more healed up than it should be. Adam panted, blinking several times as he realized there was urgent knocking on his door, even while his mind urgently tried to figure out what had happened.

The dreams - he'd had multiple ones, or perhaps just one that changed into completely different surroundings and situations, despite having only slept for twenty minutes - were fading fast and what he could remember was confusing and completely different from anything he had dreamt about before. But then again, he'd never been bitten before, either.

Michael was though. Michael was bitten, by a man, and there was a woman involved. Michael was talking crazy, about seeing crazy things. Dreams. Visions.

Adam closed his eyes and rose from his bed, taking the binding off his arm and tossing it in the trash can. He would change it when he was finished with the police. But right now the knocking was agitating his already aching head, the pounding - _howling_ - inside his skull made worse by the pounding on the door.

Forests still lingered in his mind, lush green colors, but he remembered them turning to black and gray. He remembered seeing wolves running, he remembered running himself. He remembered faces of people he didn't know, yet in the dreams he had. That wasn't entirely uncommon though, plenty of people had dreams where they were with others that in real life they had never seen and probably didn't exist except in that specific dream. But the forests, the wolves, and the pain, the strange pain at the end, that wasn't usual.

But he didn't have time to think about that now. Now was time to talk to the police about what had happened and hope he wasn't involved in anything too big or complicated and that he could go on with his life. After all that had been happening, Adam didn't really want to have to adjust to another drastic change, and he most certainly didn't want to be involved in anything to do with any sort of crime.

Taking a deep breath and ignoring the steadily growing, searing pain in his arm, Adam unlocked his door. He opened it to see two policemen, and for a moment his memory went back to another pair of policemen.

The two that had pursued Michael, and the instant his memory brought back the mental picture of those two, he caught a flash of his dream - the two monsters the rowdy crowd had been watching. The policemen's faces shifted slightly, mouths growing out from their faces, ears growing pointy, eyes glowing an inhuman shade.

And then the memory mingled with dream faded and Adam heard one of the policemen speaking his name. The shorter of the two was the one saying his name, the taller one just watching him, studying him. Like the taller of the other pair, who Adam had seen licking his teeth as if to remove a piece of food - _flesh _- and had feared for some unknown reason.

Well, to be truthful, he'd feared them both for some reason he couldn't quite pinpoint. They had made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he never figured out why.

"Yes, I'm Dr. Lockwood," Adam confirmed finally, wincing slightly as a familiar, hot pain reminded him that his arm was not in the best condition, and the air was only making it worse. He stepped to the side, ignoring the pain for the moment. "Come on in, sorry for zoning out. This attack, the injury, and lack of sleep really has taken its toll," he explained as the police stepped into the room. He figured he had best be as open as possible, otherwise they might think he wasn't innocent. He had seen plenty of cop shows - in both countries he'd lived in - to know that.

"Yes, that's quite understandable, Dr. Lockwood," the shorter of the two - the height difference between the partners was much more slight than the difference with the other two, only three or four inches difference this time - spoke. His voice was heavily accented, but much more decipherable. It also helped that he was obviously making an effort to talk slowly and clearly so there was no confusion.

"I hope you don't mind if I tend to my injury while we talk. I bound the wound when I first reached my room, but the bandages needed changing," Adam stated, heading towards the bathroom to grab bandages and some disinfecting ointment. He heard the short of the two say that was no problem at all, and nodded, grabbing his supplies and walking back into the main area.

The two policemen remained standing while Adam sat on a chair, and refused Adam's offer to seat on the sofa. "We hope we won't have to keep you too long, right now at least," the shorter of the two explained. "I'm Detective Henri, and this is my partner Detective Damak. We've got several officers examining the grounds and the area the security guard said the attack took place, and hopefully we'll be able to find out what happened with minimal fuss."

Adam nodded and hissed in pain as he treated the injury. His head was pounding - _howling _- even more now, and he felt almost drugged. Somehow he found the strength to stay awake though, even while his body continued to suffer the horrid headache, burning bite wound, and the sensation of being too cold everywhere else.

"I'm not exactly sure what I can say to help you, only that I heard something while I was walking here. I had probably come within fifteen feet, or less, of this building when I first heard anything. And then I heard a growl and felt something pounce on me," Adam explained, Detective Henri writing this down. The events were fuzzy, and the images of running in the forest were suddenly clearer, but he grasped at the fading memories of what was real. He had to ignore the dream, it wasn't real.

"Did you get a look at what attacked you?" Detective Damak asked, his voice quite different from Henri's. Damak's voice was only barely accented, and Adam realized that was because Henri's had a mixture of French and Hungarian, while Damak spoke only with Hungarian, and it sounded as though he spoke English as often as Hungarian. It was deeper, kind of husky, while Henri's was smooth and a bit higher-pitched, almost as though his voice hadn't really changed much when it finally did.

Adam shook his head, which caused him to feel even more pain. "No, I didn't get a look at it at all, so I can't help you there," he all but hissed out, struggling not to clench his teeth and beat the arm of the chair with his fist. He was starting to understand that he was becoming feverish and this could mean infection or worse. At the moment though, all he wanted was sleep, and he was going to get sleep. If he didn't feel better after sleep, he could rush to the hospital and check himself in. "I do know it was extremely heavy, and I think pretty big, judging by weight and the size of the bite."

Both detectives leaned over to look at the wound, and both nodded, giving the bite mark the proper awe and sympathetic grimace. Detective Henri wrote more down in his notepad, while Detective Damak asked more questions, taking over for the moment.

"What happened to the animal?" Adam explained that small group of people came, seeming to be hunting it, and it got away, or they killed it, he couldn't remember. "Did you get a glimpse at these people, a good look, or hear anything to indicate how many there were?" Adam said there were no more than five and at least one was a girl. There were a few more questions as Adam bandaged the wound again, and then Detective Henri closed his notepad.

"Well, Dr. Lockwood, I think that's all the information you can give us, and it's getting late, plus you look exhausted," Detective Henri stated, and Adam knew the man was being polite.

If he looked half as bad as he felt, he looked like Hell.

"Would you like for us to drive you to the hospital to get your injury checked out? I would ask for you to come down so we could try and get DNA samples, but you've obviously cleaned the wound thoroughly, which is probably for the best," Henri continued, and Adam nearly growled at the "probably for the best" part of that statement.

The young doctor just shook his head though, glancing at the once more bound wound. "No, I'm going to wait and go in after some sleep. I think I've treated it early enough, I've had my shots, sleep, vitamins, and some aspirin is what I need, gentlemen."

Both detectives nodded, though they looked dubious. Neither of them protested, since they couldn't exactly force Adam to go to a doctor. They headed toward the door, Adam rising to see them out. "Please, give us a call should you remember any other piece of information concerning tonight," Henri stated, handing Adam a small business card. "The officers outside should be done soon, and if we find out anything, we'll give you a call."

"Thank you, Detectives," Adam stated, trying to appear as grateful as he could manage. But all he wanted was aspirin and sleep. Vitamins to help fight any infection and fever would come after sleep. He nodded goodbye to the detectives. Once out of his apartment, Adam shut and locked the door before getting three aspirin and a glass of cold, cold water.

"Probably shouldn't take three, but this is one hell of a headache," Adam muttered before he swallowed the pills down, one by one. He finished off the water, the cool liquid soothing to his warm throat. He filled the glass again, drank the water down, the set the glass in the sink. "Now, sleep. Hopefully dreamless sleep," he grumbled, heading for the bedroom on wobbly legs. Either the aspirin was working faster than usual, or his fever was going up and draining him more. As he went back over to the bed, Adam ended up collapsing onto the mattress, shivering and panting softly. Eyes fluttering, Adam fell into a fitful sleep, even more turbulent than the last - extremely short - nap he had gotten.


End file.
